


Thank You

by mongoose_bite



Series: Dyce the Incredibly Easy Breton [4]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Blow Jobs, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 03:11:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mongoose_bite/pseuds/mongoose_bite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Calder takes a dive, and his Thane goes down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank You

Dyce was a man who in general preferred to travel alone. He moved in the shadows and didn’t always exhibit a great regard for the law, and too often a companion would have cramped his style. The exception, of course, was when he was hunting dragons and their words. Then he liked the reassurance of having someone large and meaty and heavily armoured at his side, or better yet, in front.

Calder was perfect. Dyce was faintly embarrassed by how well he kept his home in Windhelm, and he sensed Calder gave the silverware an extra polish when he sent word he was in the area just to watch him hand out awkward compliments. Which was fine; everyone needs a hobby.

Dyce’s hobby was having sex with attractive people, but he hadn’t attempted to turn his charms on Calder. The man was sworn to service after all, and Dyce rather felt it would be taking advantage to hit on him. Which was a shame, really, for they shared an easy camaraderie, and Dyce’s casual and oblique questioning hadn’t turned up anything that suggested Calder was adverse to the idea of another man’s hands on his cock. And what a cock it would be; Dyce hadn’t met a single Nord who’d disappointed him yet.

“You really have it in for them, don’t you?” After much prodding and reminding, Dyce had eventually managed to get Calder to drop the ‘my Thane’ after every sentence, at least while they were alone.

“Who?” Dyce asked hopefully searching a clearly impassable cliff face for handholds. There was probably a path to the top _somewhere_ around here, but he was a busy man.

“Dragons. You’re always hunting them.”

“It’s nothing personal really,” Dyce edged a bit further around the slop and slid down a few feet. “ I get that Dov’s gotta Dov, you know? But this whole enslave mankind and burn down their cities thing is a bit much.”

“I take your point. Shouldn’t we be looking for a road?”

“Oh, shut up,” Dyce grinned. “Look, there’s a cave, if we can just climb up a bit further, maybe it will take us to the top.”

“Or maybe it will be full of bears.”

It was full of trolls. Nothing the pair of them couldn’t handle, but they were breathing hard by the time they arrived at the mountaintop.

“Stay here,” Dyce whispered. “I’ll go see if anyone’s home.”

He snuck off and strolled back a few minutes later, tossing the glass dagger he’d found in the chest next to the wall from one hand to the other.

Calder raised his eyebrows and Dyce shrugged, “Well, I dunno, maybe he was visiting a friend. We had to catch a break sometime. We can be back in time for dinner.”

Instead of answering him, Calder leaped on him, his bulky frame effortlessly tackling the Breton off his feet as dragon clinging to the hillside, hidden among the jumbled rocks, batted them both off the side of the mountain. Calder clamped his arms protectively around Dyce’s head, and Dyce’s nose was repeatedly and painfully crunched against his housecarl’s steel breastplate.

They were in freefall only a moment, and then they landed, the dragon roaring somewhere above them, and they rolled through what seemed like every prickle bush and over every sharp rock in Skyrim all the way down the side of the mountain. Eventually they crashed into some bushes, and silence fell for a few moments.

Far above them, distantly, the dragon roared, but thankfully it seemed to have lost them.

Dyce was pinned under Calder and he wheezed. The Nord propped himself up on his arms and looked down at his Thane.

“Are you all right?” they chorused. Dyce grinned.

“Mostly bruises,” he said.

They really were exceptionally lucky. He realised they were a little less lucky than he thought when he noticed every potion in his pack had been broken on the way down, and had dripped through the canvas. That explained the lack of serious injuries at least. It also meant that there were none for Calder when he rolled off Dyce and discovered a long, deep scratch down the outside of his right thigh. It was more likely a rock than the dragon’s claws, but it had torn through the leather beside the steel plate just so.

“That looks painful,” Dyce said.

“It’s not so bad,” Calder said through his teeth.

“Still, you’re not going to walk back to Windhelm on it without treatment. And I have just the thing.” He pulled it from his pack. “A spare shirt soaked in healing potions.”

“Just shake all the broken glass out of it first,” Calder suggested dryly.

Dyce supported Calder and they limped away from the bushes and into the slight shelter of a large, spreading pine. The ground underneath was soft pine needles, and they’d be sheltered from all but the worst weather.

“All right,” Dyce said. “Take your pants off.”

“I bet you’ve been saving that line for months,” Calder said, unbuckling his belt while Dyce attacked the spare shirt with his dagger, cutting it into strips. Dyce merely chuckled. Calder hissed as he pulled his armour away from the wound. It was deep but clean, and he sat down with his back against the tree, as Dyce carefully bandaged his leg.

“Thanks,” he said.

“No,” Dyce said, his hands resting lightly on Calder’s muscled leg as he gazed seriously into his eyes. “Thank you. I do appreciate it, you know.”

Finally, he managed to make Calder look embarrassed for once. “I overreacted. I’ve seen you kill a dozen dragons; I didn’t need to hurl us off the mountaintop. You might look like a twitchy little Breton, but you’re a dragon slayer.”

“Let me put it this way,” Dyce said, determined to get his point across and ignoring the ‘twitchy’ comment, “That dragon was going to hurl me off the mountain in any case, and I’m rather glad you were there to cushion my fall.”

“Glad to help then,” Calder said gruffly.

Satisfied, Dyce dropped his gaze, and found it coming to rest on Calder’s smalls. Only they weren’t so small, really. He wasn’t thinking anything much, just idly admiring him, but he felt Calder shift under his hand, and couldn’t help but notice the cloth he was staring at start to tent slightly.

Calder cleared his throat, “Right, uh, so you think we should get going? Don’t want to be here after dark.”

“Mm,” Dyce said absently, his hand gently rubbing the uninjured part of Calder’s thigh. “I think I should thank you properly. As a housecarl, I don’t even pay you.”

“Well, it’s part of the uh...” Calder trailed off as Dyce reached over and ran a finger along the thickening length he could see pressed against the cotton. “The uh, the whole, what is it? Thane thing.”

Dyce looked at him. As objections went, it wasn’t exactly strongly put. “No Calder,” Dyce said gently. “This isn’t part of the whole Thane thing, trust me on that.” He shuffled a bit closer, and eased Calder out of his underwear; it was looking a bit uncomfortable. And no wonder, the Nord was thick and straining. The head of Calder’s cock started to glisten as Dyce watched, unconsciously licking his lips.

Well, this was going to be fun.

“Are you really, sure I mean, it’s not really my place...” He trailed off as Dyce slid his hand down the length of his shaft, and then tugged it back up again, easing his balls free of his underwear as he did so. Calder’s hands fluttered briefly, and then he seemed to relax, as Dyce continued stroking him, pausing only to gently squeeze the head of his cock.

Dyce’s fingers were wet. He swiped them one last time to wipe away the wetness; a futile gesture he knew. There would be more, so much more. Calder deserved that much. He scrambled around in the pine needles for a while, getting comfortable, and then he opened his mouth and tongued the end of Calder’s cock. He wasn’t holding it still and it bobbed just within reach at the gentle pressure.

He watched Calder’s face as he sucked in a breath and bit his lip. Go on, Dyce thought, say something; this has to be torture. The torture ended sooner than expected, not with Calder’s capitulation but with his cock twitching to the side and bumping against the corner of Dyce’s mouth. Oh, fine then. He turned his head slightly and engulfed the head in his mouth, savouring the salt taste and the male smell but mostly Dyce liked the silk-over-steel feel of a handsome cock against his lips. He liked it a lot, but this wasn’t about him, and he ignored the ache in his leathers. Now he gripped the base, holding it steady as he ran his tongue down the shaft, pressing it against the veins, exploring every inch.

Calder was panting now, and he was digging the heel of his uninjured leg into the ground. Dyce shifted around slightly, and took as much as he could in his mouth, until Calder’s cock was pressed hard against the inside of his mouth. He lifted his head and lowered it again, experimenting to find the angle Calder liked the best, listening to the faint noised that escaped past his teeth and watching his muscles bunch and flex.

Dyce was in no hurry, and he took his time. When his jaw got tired - and at the wide angle it was forced open at it was inevitable, he removed his mouth with one last suck and went back to using his tongue.

If Calder had grabbed his head and insisted on more, Dyce wouldn’t have minded, but housecarls were apparently made of sterner stuff. Despite the fact that Calder stopped panting only long enough to moan, and that his hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides, he demanded nothing. Dyce might have been disappointed if he couldn’t see how much effort this act of self control was taking.

Dyce was stretched out on his side, one arm on Calder’s good leg, and Calder must have noticed he wasn’t the only one enjoying this situation, because Dyce felt him lean sideways and start undoing his belt, one-handed. Dyce had to wonder where he’d learned _that._

“You don’t have to do that you know,” Dyce said, lifting his head momentarily. Calder merely grunted and shoved his hand down the front of Dyce’s pants. Dyce objected no more when those calloused fingers started stroking him. He rolled his hips forward against Calder’s hand and plunged his head down on Calder’s cock.

The dynamics changed. Dyce found a rhythm and stuck to it, and soon Calder was twitching and groaning.

“You have to stop,” he gasped eventually. “I’m going to spend.”

“Muh-uh,” Dyce said, not breaking or slackening his pace. He could feel Calder’s orgasm approaching, the sudden spurt of salt, the impossible hardness-

Calder bucked, and Dyce clung to him as to not be thrown off, and then he was coming down the back of his Thane’s neck. Dyce squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed, sucking until he felt Calder relax with a groan. Dyce lay there while Calder continued to stroke him, and it didn’t take him long to follow him over the edge, clinging to Calder’s lap while he spilled his seed over his housecarl’s hand and some of the forest floor.

Dyce wiped his mouth and Calder smeared his hand down the bark of the tree; something for the wolves to puzzle over later. Calder had clearly enjoyed himself, but Dyce had to wonder if he’d strained their friendship.

“Not just the silverware you polish then.” He just couldn’t help himself.

Calder shot him a look, “I liked you better with your mouth full.”

Dyce laughed; they were gonna be okay.


End file.
